


Hell's Angels

by Peanut_McNut



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU after season 8, Castiel and Crowley are hunting with the boys, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Human!Castiel - Freeform, maybe a little cracky, mostly human!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanut_McNut/pseuds/Peanut_McNut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean plans a day off after a hunt, the boys get more than they bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell's Angels

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in honor of National Be an Angel Day. I wasn't aware of this until today, but apparently August 22nd is Be and Angel Day and you're supposed to do little acts of kindness throughout the day. And that's pretty cool.

This is the best $100 Dean has ever spent. Phone in hand, Dean takes picture after picture as Crowley receives his goodies. The former demon shakes the official’s hand, all while glaring at Dean. The official, a dude dressed to the nines in a black suit, top hat, and a kick ass mustache, holds the key to the city out for Crowley to hold on to, still shaking his hand as he turns to Dean with a smile.  
  
“Say cheese,” Dean says.  
  
“Around here son, we say, ‘Hell’s bells!’” the official says, grinning as Dean takes another picture.  
  
He gives the guy a thumbs up, still clicking away as the man turns back to Crowley, putting a pair of red devil horns on his head and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The official looks out over the crowd.  
  
“Three cheers for today’s mayor of Hell,” the official says, voice booming out as he beams at the small crowd of tourists swarming around them, “Be sure to give him hell when you see him touring around today!”  
  
“There’ll be hell to pay, that’s for damn sure,” Crowley grumbles, still glaring at Dean as the small crowd cheers.  
  
He climbs off the wooden stage they had been standing on, sparing a withering look at the huge "Welcome to Hell, Michigan" sign behind the stage. In addition to his devil horns, Crowley is wearing his official mayor T-shirt. He has his ‘land deed’ stating that he owns one square inch of Hell, his vial of dirt, and the key to the city cradled in his hands. He looks like he’d love to murder Dean with any one of his items. Dean can’t stop laughing.  
  
“That was great,” Dean says, wiping a tear.  
  
“I hate you,” Crowley says, coming to a stop next to Sam and Castiel.  
  
“What? We were nearby and I thought to myself, what the hell, ya know?” Dean says grinning.  
  
Sam rolls his eyes, “You’re ridiculous, Dean.”  
  
“I think I have one helluva sense of humor, Sammy.”  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
“Are we going to have to endure Hell related idioms the entire day?” Castiel asks.  
  
“He’s your boyfriend,” Crowley says, “Can’t you keep him under control?”  
  
“Have I ever been able to?”  
  
“No, you haven’t. You suck at your job, Castiel.”  
  
“And you’re sucking at yours Crowley,” Dean says, taking some of Crowley’s wares from him, “Wave to your new constituents.”  
  
As the tourists scatter, they wave and say hello to Crowley. To Dean’s surprise, he waves back and manages something close to a smile. Dean runs Crowley’s swag back to the Impala, letting the other three head off towards the diner for lunch. Dean'd had the idea when an ad had popped up on his computer screen while researching a case they’d just finished up thirty miles out. There isn't much to Hell, Michigan. Dean hadn’t thought much of it until he saw that you could nominate a person to be mayor of Hell for a day. He’d known just the guy for the job.  
  
Crowley had done well rehabbing back from being a demon. Since the third trial had been stopped before it could take, he isn't completely human, but he's damn close to it. Castiel had made his way back to them after the angels fell, full-on human. Dean had had to go pick him up in Colorado after he’d made his way out of the wilderness and to a phone. Metatron could have been a little less of a dick and at least dropped Castiel off somewhere near civilization.  
  
They were still in the midst of trying to figure out what to do on the Metatron/Abaddon front. With no leads, they’d taken a case in Michigan, which had lead them straight to Hell. It’s hot enough for it. The sun beats down on Dean, the Impala’s black paint scalding to the touch, as he tries to open and shut the trunk as quick as possible while still managing to get all of Crowley’s stuff tossed in. He wouldn’t want to loose any of the ex-demon’s keepsakes.  
  
The heat had been Dean’s way of getting everyone down here. He’d suggested they take a day off and go kayaking. Floating down the river with a cooler of beer had been a good way to start off their day. They’d headed out in the morning before it got too hot, dropping in at Bruin Lake and ending up in Hell. Crowley had known something was up as soon as he’d seen the sign. He’d been a good sport about the whole thing all and all. Dean would never admit it but, with almost a year under their belts, he found kind of liked the guy. Out of everything that had happened since the angels had fallen, that was probably the most surprising of all.  
  
“Sir? Can I offer you a fan?" a guy asks him, startling Dean out of his thoughts, "It's a scorcher out here today."  
  
“Uh, sure. Thanks,” Dean says, taking the fan.  
  
The guy smiles at him, “Have a great day!”  
  
Dean’s halfway down the street when he turns back to look at the dude again. He’s handing out fans to a group of tourists, but it’s what’s on his head that has Dean doing a double take. The guy is wearing one of those tinsel halos you see little kids wear in Christmas plays in all those Christmas movies that play on TV during the holiday season. Other than that, he’s got a red shirt and some khaki shorts on. Dean shrugs it off, figuring the guy must have taken a wrong turn, because he is way off theme for this place.Dean meets back up with the others at Screams Diner, the three of them having already gotten themselves a booth. Dean slides into the seat next to Castiel.  
  
“What’s that?” Castiel asks.  
  
“A fan,” Dean says, hand the paper fan to him, “Some dude was handing them out.”  
  
“You’re not supposed to take things from strangers, Dean.” Sam says.  
  
Dean makes a face at him.  
  
“That was nice of him,” Castiel says.  
  
“Yep. Regular good Samaritan. Had a halo and everything,” Dean says, making a circle over his head when they all stare at him, “No really. An actual halo.”  
  
“The guy knows he’s in Hell, right?” Crowley asks, thanking the waitress as she hands him his drink.  
  
Dean shrugs, giving her his order as she finishes passing out the others' drinks. Sam already has his rabbit food in front of him, and starts digging in. Dean is surprised to see his brother had actually ordered a burger too when the rest of the food comes out. Hell must make a guy hungry. They’re finishing up when Dean looks up from his fries to see another person with a halo wander into the diner.  
  
“Look,” he says, nodding in her direction.  
  
The woman is smiling, talking amicably with the waitress standing at the cash register. She’s wearing a halo just like the guy on the street had been.  
  
“Huh,” Sam says, “Maybe it’s like a school group or something.”  
  
“They look a little old for school, Sammy,” Dean asks, skeptical.

"College?"  
  
Crowley raises an eyebrow, “I’m no expert, but I don’t think schools go in for this sort of thing.”  
  
“The residents already have a theological theme going on,” Castiel says, returning to his burger, “Why shouldn’t that include angels?”  
  
“Not many angels in Hell, Cass,” Dean says, turning back to his plate.  
  
“No, not normally,” Castiel says with a sly smile, as Dean winks at him.  
  
“Don’t you two get all sappy on us. I’m having a bad enough day as it is,” Crowley says.  
  
Dean looks at him, “Come on, you know you enjoyed being center of attention.”  
  
Crowley doesn’t respond, but Dean knows he's right. They finish up and, once the waitress leaves them the check, they head up to the counter to pay, leaving some cash on the table for a tip. Sam starts to hand over some money to pay, but the waitress at the register shakes her head, curly brown locks of hair failing into her face.  
  
“Your bill’s already been paid,” she says, pushing them out her way.  
  
“By who?” Sam asks, surprised.  
  
The woman shrugs and smiles, “One of the angels. They paid for everyone’s meal in here, plus they gave us tips.”  
  
She moves off to help some of the other customers. They look at each other, confused. Sam leads the way out of the diner, another ‘angel’ opens the door for them, smiling and telling them that he hopes they have a good day. Dean turns back as they walk down the road and sees him open the door for a few more customers, like a doorman.  
  
“What the hell is going on?” Dean asks.  
  
“Dean, you have got to stop with the ‘Hell’ thing.”  
  
“What?” Dean asks, confused, “No, I mean really, what the hell?  
  
“Does it matter? It’s not like they’re killing anyone. Torturing people with kindness, maybe,” Crowley says, watching as one of the ‘angels’ help herd a group of older women across the road.  
  
Dean snorts. Crowley might be almost human, but that didn’t make him the best human in the whole wide world. Sam and Crowley move on, getting further ahead as they poke around in a few of the shops. Dean and Castiel find a shady place to sit and people watch.  
  
“I think they’re simply helping people,” Castiel says after a while.  
  
“Like just... Helping? For no reason?” Dean asks.  
  
Castiel shrugs, “Why not?”  
  
“People don’t normally help people just because, Cass.”  
  
“You and Sam come to people's aid all the time.”  
  
“That’s different.”  
  
“How?”  
  
“It’s our job.”  
  
Castiel shakes his head at him, “Besides, you’re wrong. People are kind. People are willing to help. I’ve been the recipient of many a person’s kindness, for no other reason than they felt the need to help.”  
  
Dean looks around at the people around them. They seem happier. He sees more people smiling. A few of them are even using some of those fans like the one Dean had been given earlier. There are kids with balloons tied to their wrists, skipping down the sidewalks with their parents. They join back up with Sam and Crowley, he sees a woman with a halo passing those balloons out, bending over to tie the ribbons for the littler kids when needed.  
  
“Maybe you’re right,” Dean says, reaching for Castiel's hand.  
  
They wander around until the late afternoon. Taking pictures and goofing off. It’s fun. They see ‘angels’ doing little random acts of kindness everywhere they go. Dean finds himself smiling every time he sees one of them. Even Crowley seems to enjoy them. When it’s time to leave, they stop back in one of the stores to get something to drink for the ride out of town. The big burly store clerk waves them off when Castiel goes to pay.  
  
“More angels?” Dean asks.  
  
“Nah,” the guy says, looking out the window at the people passing by, “It kind of rubs off on you though, doesn’t it?”  
  
“Does this happen a lot here?” Sam asks.  
  
“The angel thing? Nope. First time I’ve ever seen it.”  
  
“You know why they’re here?”  
  
“One of my customers told me earlier that it’s National Be an Angel Day, so I guess someone must have set this up.”  
  
They thank the man then head out of the store, making their way towards where they’d parked the Impala.  
  
“You have very strange holidays,” Castiel says.  
  
“We have all kinds of dumb holidays. There are three days dedicated to cupcakes,” Sam says with a shrug.  
  
“You’re like a walking, talking version of Wikipedia,” Dean says.  
  
Sam continues like he hasn’t heard Dean, “Then there’s National Pie Day --”  
  
“Don’t you dare say anything about National Pie Day. That’s the best day ever.”  
  
“You just say that because it’s the day before your birthday and you think that means you get to celebrate for two days instead of one.”  
  
“Double your pleasure, double your pie, Sammy.”  
  
Sam just laughs at him, the Impala only a few yards away.  
  
“It was a good day, but what do you say we get the hell out of here?” Dean asks with a grin, “If I drive like a bat out of hell, we ought to be halfway home by nightfall.”  
  
He laughs at the collective groans he receives as they reach the Impala.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a general disclaimer, I have never been to Hell, Michigan, but from what I saw on the the website, it looks like fun! So if I got a bunch of stuff wrong, my apologies.


End file.
